Ghosts and Shadows
by Forbiddensoul562
Summary: All it had taken was Near being caught in the cross-fire. One wrong move and in an instant the detective's one most important sense was suddenly gone, throwing his entire world into a state of almost complete blackness. MelloxNear. Plz r&r.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey, remember that time when I had like five stories that I said I would update? Yeah, me either. No, but in all seriousness I will get to those. But this story has been on the forefront of my mind for the past week. So… I figured let's give this a shot. I've always been interested in these sorts of takes. So, I guess now it's my turn to give it a whirl and see how it turns out.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.

Chapter 1

* * *

"Mello, if you really want to shoot me then go ahead and do it."

Near's taunt echoed through the bleak, metal room. Everyone was frozen within their respective roles -Gevanni and Rester with their guns to Mello, Lidner on the sidelines unsure what to do, and an age-old battle raging in the air between the two successors.

Nears words pulled at Mello, just as they always had. It brought them both right back to their childhood arguments over the scores of exams which, by comparison to the present, meant nothing. Everything was on the line now. Pride. Revenge. Their very lives were at stake. But somehow even that seemed to take a backseat winning this final battle.

Mello's fingers tightened around the gun in his hand, his eyes narrowed as his memory dashed forward and transported him back to every instance in which Near had held his victory over him, whether consciously or unconsciously. His fingers clenched at the trigger; a voice in the back of his head telling him it would be so easy to just pull it and take Near out of his life forever. If Near was willing to taunt him with his life, then why shouldn't Mello be willing to take the challenge? Killing Near wasn't the victory he wanted, but maybe it could be victory enough. Maybe Near's death would grant him the ability to feel like a human being again.

"Stop!"

All of a sudden, everything became a flash as Halle ran forward, crushed under the pressure of a dynamic for which she had no idea of, in order to stop Mello from shooting her boss. The stagnant air which had previously suffocated the room was suddenly alight with energy and filled with the smell of gunpowder. The sudden outcry and a misfire then suddenly everything leapt into action; almost too fast for Mello to grasp, let alone react to.

With her outcry, somebody had shot.

Mello had no idea who, but that immediately became the least of his concerns. If his years with the mafia had taught him anything, it was that when shots get fired you don't ask questions; you don't even think. If you stop to think, you're dead. It taught him that all you can do at that point is pull the trigger and pray to God you don't get hit.

With a swift intake of air his adrenaline suddenly kicked in and his body moved without his minds permission; his blue eyes making split second gauges of the room before grabbing Halle, the closest person to him, and throwing her to the left, into Rester. The action was just enough to throw the operations leader off his aim. Mello watched as his own gun moved up and the trigger was pulled.

_Bang!_

Immediately the blood exploded from Lidner's head and she fell, but he didn't have the time to register what he'd just done, or watch how it was handled by Rester.

Another shot was fired, the bullet hitting and indenting itself into the wall behind Mello's head. His heart dropped out of his chest cavity, the feeling of mortality shooting through his veins. His eyes shot over to Gevanni, promptly calculating him to be the next acceptable target.

The blonde sucked in his breath as he turned his gun to Gevanni, his eyes immediately catching sight of the black-haired man pulling the trigger of his own gun.

The breath Mello had just sucked in suddenly caught in his throat. There was no sound. Azure eyes widened, pausing just long enough to register the jam in Gevanni's gun. Mello met his target's eyes, watching the man's once steady stare flood with the same fear Mello had just felt.

_'Don't think.'_ He heard himself say.

_Bang!_

Another man down. Another threat to his life taken out. His eyes darted back to Rester, who had taken the briefest of seconds to gauge if there was any life left in Lidner. Mello's eyes met his new target's; the older man's blue eyes were filled with determination, unfazed by the course of actions happening before him. Rester was a well-trained second in command. Near definitely knew how to pick them…

The realization suddenly hit him and without giving it a second thought he jumped into action, moving to sprint forward and grab Near in an attempt to use him as bait to get himself out of this situation. However, he hadn't realized that the stress of his situation was beginning to make his body freeze as fear took over the adrenaline's place in his veins. Each millisecond that passed made his mind begin to settle on what exactly he was doing as well as the consequences of his actions.

The swelling thoughts caused him to trip, falling to the cold hard floor with a heavy thud. He found himself next to where Near had camped himself on the floor, but the floor placed him in a terrible position to grab the younger boy in order to execute his plan. Without missing a beat he turned back to Rester, who's gun was already being raised.

"Mello!" He heard his name shouted, and suddenly his entire reality stopped rushing with the adrenaline of the situation. It decelerated down till he could have swore everything was moving instead in slow motion.

His blue eyes looked over, registering the few inches placed between himself and Near. The younger shifted to look at him, grey eyes giving him a look which Mello couldn't readily read, before moving further to turn and look to his second in command.

The actions played out before Mello could control himself. His fight-or-flight senses completely taking over, and right then all he could do was fight for his life. For somewhere he knew that even if Near did try to call off Rester, he knew it probably wouldn't be enough to stop him from shooting Mello, even if simply out of spite for killing the other members of the SPK. Mello watched Near begin to turn in order to end the shoot out. His young, round face coming, for the briefest of seconds, practically in line with Mello's gun.

_Bang!_

Mello's eyes dilated, watching the world play out in its hindered speed. The gun exploded to life and immediately the bullet was sent off, the slide shooting back and ejecting the empty cartridge. The gun sent out the briefest seconds of fire at the muzzle as the gunpowder was set aflame and all he could do was watch the consequence of his action as the debris and fire burned at Near's face in the cross-fire.

Everything suddenly fell into a deathly silence, a cruel irony as all but the two successors lay dead on the floor. Mello couldn't even comprehend that he'd just killed the remaining three SPK agents as his world began playing in regular speed again. The fact of his murders became a mere sub-thought compared to what was unfolding before him.

His eyes stayed wide and transfixed on Near; the wind caught within his chest. The younger had reached for his face immediately after the impact, covering his eyes with one hand and partially with his snowy bangs. Near's arm suddenly shook, his mouth opened and heavy breaths exhaled from between the parted lips.

Blood began seeping out from between Near's tightly grasped fingers, staining the white locks of his bangs and in that moment Mello grimaced as he heard something he'd never in his life thought he'd ever hear, a sound which he immediately knew he never wanted to hear again.

The blood-curdling scream of pain Near let out, for the first time showing the true power behind the lungs he had in his chest.

* * *

A/N: Well… there you go. A very short start, though quite action-packed (for my style, anyway) but a seemingly good cut off place till the next chapter. Anyway, I don't want to bog this note down, so if you would let me know what you think so far, or what you're thinking, or really any comments you have they would be greatly appreciated.

Please review  
-_Forbiddensoul562_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello all! First off, thanks to everyone who sent me wonderful reviews. You're amazing, and I appreciate it for the first chapter! As you all (probably?) know, I don't exactly do action scenes so… yeah. But now I get to move back to characterizations! So that's fun! Anyway, here's the next chapter. Hopefully the next chapter will be out this fast as well, so be on the look-out, and as usual, let me know what you think of this installment.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.

Chapter 2

* * *

The dreadful scream which spilled from Near's lungs stopped all time within Mello's universe. The blood which dripped from between Near's fingers swiftly became the only measure by which Mello could recognize that time was, indeed, still actually ticking forward. For all he could tell, though, it took minutes for Near's body to go rigid and crumple forward. One hand grasped the floor in a fist, smearing the pristine dots of blood which stained the silver tile. Though Mello could tell Near was doing everything in his power not to scream out his pain, small cries displaying his growing agony split from between his clenched teeth, despite his desperation to hold his composure together even in the injured state.

Mello could only sit frozen, watching his rival's behave in a way he'd never seen before; never thought he'd see in his lifetime.

Suddenly, he heard the small voice which had called to him before the shoot-out rise up into this conscience. _'He brought this on himself.'_ He grit his teeth and clenched his own fists on the floor, feeling them begin to shake as the voice justified to him, _'he let them shoot at me! He didn't do anything. It's about time he felt what it's like to not have things go your way.'_ It went on. He found himself pushing his body up off the floor and back to his feet, though they wobbled momentarily under the weight of his conscience.

_'Let him rot for all I care.'_

Another small, restrained whine of strangled pain broke through the silent room. The cry at once filled Mello's vision with what would happen the moment he stepped out of the SPK headquarters. He could envision the utter silence throughout the closed up space, and could feel the sensation of an icy desolate death creeping in on the younger genius from all sides. There was nothing Near would be able to do about it.

Mello looked back over his shoulder a moment, eyeing all the computers and servers which were still humming away in standby, waiting for their newest command from a sentient master. They held within them the potential to command armies, or rally any politician all over the world. Yet Mello seriously doubted that Near, even if he hadn't been injured, would know how to run any of it without some assistance.

A frigid chill ran down the mafia member's spine as he turned back to the exit door and mentally tried to force his legs to carry him out. Yet still he was rooted in place, his vision clouding over with a sudden assault of memories of times he tried to never remember. Memories of the two of them when they still lived at Wammy's… remembering how isolated Near always was back then, surrounded by numbers of children just like him yet still finding ways to stay locked within himself. Mello remembered how insignificant Near used to make him feel with just the simplest of sideways glances. Despite it all, he remembered the sick thrill he'd felt somewhere hidden deep below all the horrendous competition and abjection he'd constantly felt…

He suddenly turned back to Near completely, staring down at him with azure eyes sharpened by years of being cut down to second place; now ready to take their revenge on the younger being who'd brought on all of his suffering.

And yet, as Near's painful cries reached him, he felt his heart clench within his chest and in that instant the revenge meant nothing at all to him. All he could do was swallow the feeling of an unbridled need to make Near feel even half of what he had back down into the deep recesses of the buried memories for which he tried to keep away from his present day life.

Even if he wanted revenge for everything Near had put him through, he had to acknowledge that this wasn't how he wanted to do it. If he left, Near would die, and even in his wildest dreams that wasn't how he would want any last meeting between he and his rival to go. This wasn't how Mello wanted to win, and it wasn't how any of this was supposed to go. Then again, he couldn't help musing how none of his plans ever really seemed to go perfectly according to procedure when Near was involved. He knew he should've been used to this by now.

Regardless, though, there was nothing that could have made him used to _this_…

Somewhere deep within him a hidden sense of honor began to burn in his core, telling him that leaving and letting Near die wasn't the right, or by any means noble, thing to do. This new sense screamed at him that this was _his_ fault alone, not Near's. That _he _had caused Near to get hurt, and that this was _his_ responsibility to fix, somehow. Even if it was just to make sure he got treated properly and brought back to the SPK… at least it was something. Anything was more respectable than what he was about to do.

He bit his tongue, drawing back a bit with his nerves alight with anxiety before he forced himself to let it go for right now. The competition wasn't important, he told himself. Near was important. In that moment Near was the revenge, and thus Near had to stay alive long enough to witness Mello take everything away from him.

Another drip of Near's blood hit the floor, and all of a sudden time began moving at its normal speed again. At once the blonde found himself next to his rival, his once vengeance-filled stare was now replaced with a sense of careful attention to the details of the situation. Near's hand which covered his eyes was heavily stained with blood, along with the locks of hair in front of his face.

"Why the hell did you do that?" He found himself asking, though of course not expecting an answer but more just to have something to say to break the tension he felt. "Dammit Near!" Without a second thought he reached forward grabbed the hem of Near's long, loose shirt, giving it a harsh tug and ripping off a part, folding it carefully. "Put this over the area for now." He instructed, placing it on Near's hands and letting the shaky fingers replace his hand with the once white cloth. At least he was complying, Mello told himself. That was a good sign…

Mello felt his heart begin to race as the gravity of the situation sunk in, his blue eyes looked up and around the room, searching desperately for what he was supposed to do now. All he was met with was the silence of the bodies on the floor, seemingly mocking the helpless position he'd placed himself in.

"Fuck…" He swore under his breath.

The idle splash of blood painting the floor once again reminded Mello of each passing second, and with each moment that the sound echoed through his ears he felt himself crumbling more under the pressure.

He swallowed once to keep his sudden insecurities at bay, then climbed to his feet, his thick boots providing good stability in the growing number of spots of blood on the tile. "Come on." He muttered, grabbing Near and lifting his surprisingly light frame off the floor and into his arms. He felt the way Near's body instantly tensed, though it was hard to say if the reaction was a result of pain, or because Mello had suddenly taken complete control of the situation.

He decided where they went.

He decided what happened.

Ultimately, Mello was now the one to deciding Near's fate for him.

As he made a move to exit the room, he felt Near's body grow even more rigid, if at all possible, forcing him to stop. Near's lips parted momentarily and a heavy breath was emitted in a desperate attempt to say something, but as the sound was about to be let out, his body gave out and went limp in Mello's arms, giving in to the shock of the infliction mixed with his losing blood. Suddenly the feeling of complete control was multiplied exponentially for Mello and for a moment he wasn't sure he could be trusted with such a responsibility.

He swallowed once more, "I've got this." He couldn't be sure if he was trying to assure Near, or himself.

-:-

New York never truly slept. It simply fluctuated between transition stages of pure action, hustle and bustle throughout the course of the day, then down into an almost state of eased, peaceful meditation at night. No matter what hour of the night, or what day on the calendar, there was always someone to be found walking along the sidewalks, and cars driving up and down the back roads. Even now there were people unknowingly walking to and from places… Even despite such a tragedy had occurred only a couple hours previously, which none of the passing bystanders knew anything about.

As Mello stood there watching them from a window in his apartment, he couldn't help feeling as though the entire world's reality should have been completely rocked off its axis right now. Yet somehow as he watched all of them go about their daily lives Mello felt like he was the only one being affected by the knowledge one of the world's only chances at being saved from the manipulations of Kira had just been injured, to a level which Mello didn't know yet. Something about the whole scene felt horribly wrong.

He turned away from the window to look back around his quiet and sparse apartment, too sickened by the sight of the world's selfish ignorance. Taking meandering steps through the space he ran his fingers through his hair in a desperate attempt to ease his nerves, though almost instantly he stopped, pulling his hands from the blonde locks, staring down at them. There was still a faint stain of pink across his hands; the color and the knowledge of who it had come from made him almost physically sick.

He hadn't known what to do when he left the SPK headquarters, or where to go. Near had always been the stable and logical mind between the two of them. He was the one who always knew what to do, where to go, and always had a back-up plan no matter what life through at him. Mello simply floated in the wind by comparison. But suddenly everything was put on his shoulders.

The thought of taking Near to the hospital had been pushed from his mind almost as quickly as the idea was formed. Naturally they were the best equipped for such a situation, but Near was a nameless, kinless persona who was almost completely reliant on everyone else to deal with everything in his life that wasn't an investigation. Sure the hospital would take care of him, but the moment he was released, he'd have nowhere to go and no way to get back, let alone any way to continue his investigation now that the SPK members were dead and the United States, who'd previously funded his investigation, had pulled out of the search for Kira.

And Mello, as a member of the mafia, wasn't about to stick around a hospital for too long, even if it was to help fix his mistake. That just wasn't a risk he was willing to take.

Realistically, the only option he had had was to bring Near back to his place and call the one person he knew would be of help.

He heard muffled talking from the area in front of him, the kitchen. Taking a deep breath he forced himself to walk over around the wall that cut off the kitchen from the rest of the apartment.

Despite still being unconscious, Near had been situated on a black wooden chair by the back wall, his body was completely lethargic, though the sight of him sent shivers down Mello's spine. His eyes had been carefully wrapped with a pristine white cloth, which went around his head, but his clothes were still ripped and red from the incident. In front of him stood an older man with graying black, greased hair and donning dark clothes; the man's hands were large and thick from years of practical use. As he carefully reached and carefully placed a series of bandaids on the cuts near Near's eyebrows and temples, the heavy contrast between the older man and Near's skin was obvious.

Mello didn't know who the man really was, but he'd always just been called Doc and had been the personal doctor for the mafia branch Mello had been involved with. Based on the vast amount of knowledge and skills Doc had, Mello found it safe to assume that at some point or another Doc had been an actual practicing doctor in his prime who had probably just happened to get messed up with the wrong crowd. Regardless of what his story was, Doc was the only one Mello felt he could trust, even when he was still in the mafia. He simply came in, did his job as he was asked to do it, received his money and didn't ask any questions. He didn't hold biases, and didn't care who was on what side. All he wanted was to help people get better, and get paid to do it. It was because of all these qualities that Doc had been the one to help Mello after his building's explosion in Los Angeles.

Mello shuddered a bit, forcing the memory from his mind as he watched Doc begin cleaning up his mess and putting his medical equipment back into his large leather bag. "Don't scratch." He murmured, though Near couldn't hear him; his voice was heavily laden with a thick Russian accent.

Muttering something to himself in Russian, the older man finished gathering all his equipment, shut his bag and turned towards the entrance to the kitchen as he picked it up to leave. As his own blue eyes found Mello there, he silently motioned him out into the living room.

Mello stepped out and Doc followed, shaking his head as he did so. "Good you called me." He muttered, his tired, light eyes displaying in them years of experiences of things he'd seen. He never looked directly at Mello as he spoke, though, as if still processing the medical job he'd just done on Near.

"Well?" Mello pressed.

"It does not look very good." Doc said, running a hand through his hair. "I have been doing this a very long time, Mello." He went on to explain, "I do not need to know the details of what happened. I can tell from his injuries that he was very close to the gun when it went off. The combustion from a gunshot lets off explosion of burning powder and radiation. Unfortunately, the proximity the boy was at when the gun was shot caused his corneas to be severely burned, from the look of it."

Mello's heart constricted and fell from his chest cavity, in that moment he could have swore his entire body stopped functioning. He exhaled heavily, looking back towards the opening to the kitchen and almost not wanting to ask the subsequent question. "So, what's going to happen?" He really didn't want to have to ask. He didn't want to have to know. He wasn't doing this for himself… he was doing it because Near was going to want an answer. But already he couldn't even begin to think about how he was going to form the words to tell Near any of this.

"It is hard to say since he is unconscious and I can only check the way his eyes react to light so much right now…" Doc breathed out with his heavy accent. "Like I said, it does not look good. You will know for sure within a few days, but right now it seems he has lost quite a lot of their ability to see. Maybe eighty percent. Maybe ninety. Maybe more…" Doc theorized as he explained, his eyes narrowing as he thought it over.

"Ninety?" Mello asked, his volume heightening before he caught himself and trying to bite his tongue. How much was ninety percent? How much did that leave him able to see? "Well…"

Doc waved his hand to shush him down. "Unfortunately, with this level of burns, his eyes probably won't get much better. If anything, over time they might get worse. You could always get them replaced, but…" He gave a small chuckle, "I know in this line of work, doing things by the book is difficult. And even I would probably not be able to do such a transplant. Kidney or liver transplants, yes, no problem. But eyes are quite different."

Mello sighed, still stuck on the idea that Near, practically his lifelong rival, could be left in such a debilitated state. Near was always so perfect and always had been, the very idea of him being anything else was unfathomable. "Right…" Was all he could say in a heavy exhale.

Doc cleared his throat, adjusting his bag in his hands. "I have done what I can do for now. I will be back to check on him in a week or so." He explained as he headed towards the door. "He can take the bandages off tomorrow, or the day after. Don't leave them on for too long. Give him medicine if he's in pain, you could buy some drops for the eyes and see if it will help. But it is long shot. I trust you will have my payment wired to me, as usual." Mello could only nod silently as he followed him to the door.

Doc opened the door to leave, "keep eye on his condition and let me know if it changes. That is what I am here for."

He turned to Mello, then immediately reached up and grabbed the younger's chin. Moving Mello's face to the side despite Mello trying to pull away, he squinted his dark eyes as he observed the scar across his face. Instantly the blonde felt his nerves shoot through the roof; he hated anybody acknowledging his scar, let alone trying to touch it, but all he could do was grit his teeth.

"Your burn is healing nicely, Mello. You will always have scar, but it could have been much worse for you. You did well to call me when you did." He repeated, letting go of Mello and exiting from the apartment without another word.

Mello exhaled a heavy breath, closing and locking the door, leaving him sealed inside his once personal and private space with his enemy. His rival. He shook his head to clear the thought from his mind. Near was his enemy, and rival, but he couldn't let himself focus on that right now he was injured and even less able to function for himself than usual. It was Mello's fault any of it had happened, so Near was now his responsibility.

He swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat, desperately wanting more than anything to just get a fresh bar of chocolate to help him sit down and think over their new reality. Mello had caused this, had brought this on himself, and as such his sometimes distorted honor dictated that it was his job to right the situation however he could.

_'It'll be fine.'_ He repeated the mantra. _'I'll figure out how to fix this.'_ But almost immediately after he repeated the words in his mind and had started thinking that perhaps things would actually turn out alright, suddenly a loud outcry met his ears from the kitchen.

* * *

A/N: So, there you go. I originally wrote the first draft of this, then spoke to my old muse/beta Lumorai about it and she was like, "You should probably change Mello's character for this…" So then I got so sick of the first draft that I had to go back and re-write this. So… yeah… anyone who knows me knows that Near is my character of writing choice, not Mello. So, I'd appreciate your thoughts so far. As I said, hopefully the next chapter will be out next week!

Please review  
-_Forbiddensoul562_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! This, and the 15th chapter of Isolation are my Christmas presents to everyone this year. So, yeah I'm sorry about the wait time of this, as well. I've been struggling with how exactly to pin everyone down, as well as what I'm going to do with it. But I think I've kind of come to a couple of decisions. So, we'll see, and as usual, please let me know what you think of this installation.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.

* * *

Chapter 3

The outcry that greeted Mello's ears instantly sent him into action without a second though, moving from the front door of the apartment to the entrance to the kitchen where the cry had originated from. He instantly stopped, however, caught off guard by the sudden sight which met his eyes.

Near had finally regained consciousness, his body had instantly gone tense and completely rigid, one leg had been pulled up close to his middle as if the proximity would protect him against whatever surroundings he was in; his hands slowly and shakily worked at the bandages around his head to try and free himself from them.

Mello was at a loss of what to do. Was he supposed to say something, and if so what to say? Was he supposed to do something? He'd never dealt with anything like this before, and in that moment he wished he'd stalled Doc just a moment or two longer so he could deal with Near instead and thus give Mello some sort of visual guide to show what Mello should even hope to be doing with Near in this condition.

He swallowed hard as he watched Near's fingers work at the bandages, trying to pull the tightly wound material away from his eyes. "Near, stop." He forced out, his voice coming out hoarser than he'd intended. He could hear the guilt in the meager two words, his heart thudded in his chest cavity as he waited for Near to register his voice and put all the scattered pieces of the timeline together.

Near instantly let go of the white cloth, his lips parted and his fingers reached to his hair before contorting into fists within the blood-stained locks. The aura he released made Mello mentally ready his defenses and grit his teeth, waiting for whatever battle Near engaged them in.

"Mello." Near's tone was stiff and threatening in a way Mello had never heard before. Near had the power to command any military power he could ever want or need, and suddenly all of it was pointed directly at the blonde. "What did you do?" Each word was laboriously spoken with heavy malice.

"I didn't-" He forcibly cut off his instant response to deny anything was his fault. He _knew_ this was his fault, and as a result knew he needed to live up to that, but admitting it aloud was much harder. He swallowed once more, looking down momentarily. "I'm sorry." The words were quiet, barely audible over his pounding heart, yet as genuine as he could make them considering the situation.

"What did you do?" The words repeated in quite the same fashion as before.

Mello instantly felt like a child standing there in Near's presence. He'd made a foolish mistake and caused so much harm, and now he was being punished for it. He wanted to scream. He wanted to say that he didn't need this treatment from Near right now, that he could reprimand himself more than anyone ever could. But as he was frozen there, parallel to Near and choking on the tension that lay stagnant between them, his reaction suddenly felt like a lie which he was trying to sell himself in order for everyone else's judgment to stop for the briefest of seconds.

But that still left the question what was he supposed to tell Near? 'Sorry, I accidentally blinded you and you're probably never going to get your eyesight back.'

"I made a mistake." He heard himself say close to a quiet murmur, clenching his fists together and turning his head away a bit. He used to hate when Roger would make him admit what he did wrong, and why it was wrong; time had not changed that in him. "You were in my way. Your damn _people_ were-."

"Mello!"

"You're blind." Frustration made the words spilled from his mouth before he could catch himself, or think of a more sensitive way to approach it. It sounded wrong. The words felt so final, so damning, so _unacceptable _when directed to Near. Near didn't deserve to live with the consequences of Mello's foolish actions.

Mello's words caused all movement in their shared universe to stop, and at once everything fell into a complete vacuum of silence. Near's body lost the tension he'd had before, suddenly becoming completely stoic as the breath vacated his lungs, his fingers fell from his hair, resting instead on his raised knee. "What?" He asked. His voice was small and full of disbelief. Any semblance of Near ever being alive had instantly fell away and he retreated into himself to protect him from the news Mello had just given him.

Mello knew Near's unbelievable amounts of confidence in himself and how that affected the way he commonly handled anything in the world. But he also knew all the ways he protected himself against it, as well. But this was different then all of that. This felt like complete system shut down, and Mello didn't know how to handle it. Near's mind had lost its balance from its once normal gravitationally sound orbit into something now completely different. It was now in free fall to something stronger, something more imperative that had begun ripping his entire being apart one atom at a time.

Mello's heart raced up into his throat, he couldn't stand to watch Near react this way. He hated so many things about Near, but this just wasn't right. He didn't deserve this! The physical need to fix this situation in whatever way possible took over Mello's heart before even a sliver of the idea reached his mind for approval, and suddenly he heard himself speaking.

"It's only temporary."

Mello's eyes widened momentarily when he heard what he'd just said reverberating around in his mind. It's temporary? No, the sight Near may have at that moment was what was temporary, not the other way around. He wanted to scream at himself for being unable to control himself better. He wanted to take it back and admit that he didn't know what had come over him.

But as he watched Near's body react and gain a bit more life than it'd had before, how could he take the words, the hope, from him?

"Temporary?" Near's words were full of scrutiny.

"Temporary." He repeated, trying to convince himself. "But…" he swallowed, "that could mean anything. Days, months, years… It's hard to say." His throat had gone dry, unable to deal with the lies he was spewing and the hope he was so carelessly breathing into Near.

Near's hand reached up again and touched the bandages over where his eyes were, "Where are we, Mello?" His voice was still quiet, and low in tone but that too seemed to be getting back closer to its normal detached yet commanding tone. It was obvious he realized the situation Mello had put them in by wounding him, and now was testing the waters of suddenly becoming much more dependent than he was used to.

If it had been anyone else, Mello would have been concerned by Near's sudden change of subject, but he could read past it. The diagnosis Mello had given him was damning, but until Near's mind rested on the finality of it, he was treating it as though there was nothing he could do, and as such felt it more important to move on to more pressing matters. If the situation had been any different, he might have laughed a bit at it all.

"My apartment." He finally responded.

"Which is where?"

He glared at his rival, "It doesn't matter. You don't know New York that well, and even if you did, I doubt you'd make it very far if you decided to leave anyway." He shot, feeling the atmosphere between them beginning to return back to a level which he was familiar with, which he felt more comfortable in.

"You killed the SPK taskforce."

"It was self-defense." He told Near, and himself. He wasn't ready to deal with the mental anguish that would come with the consequences of that action. He could only deal with one mistake at a time, and right now that involved Near. His own mental well-being was placed on the backburner.

"Your foolish knows no bounds, it seems."

"Have you ever known me to be any different?" He tried offer lightly, attempting to allow the moment to ease out the pressure that still lingered between them.

"There's a difference, Mello." Near said carefully, "You've always been foolish. But this wasn't _just_ foolish. It was just completely stupid." Near reached up, twirling a lock of hair, the blood from it staining his fingers more than they already were.

Mello turned away a moment, his jaw clenching together in frustration and his hands balling together. "I know." He said through gritted teeth. "I don't need you to remind me. I apologized, alright? It's done." He leaned on the doorframe, looking anywhere but Near as his guilt once again made itself known.

"And what exactly are you planning on doing now, then, Mello?" Near asked, his tone demeaning and almost eager to hear whatever plan the blonde had concocted to resolve this situation. The question only made Mello more angry as he knew Near was only asking to revel in the fact that he was at an almost complete loss. Sure, Mello could try and make sure Near didn't accidentally kill himself as a result of his inability to see, but that was just a band-aid over a gushing wound, and Near knew it and wanted to drive the point home.

"I'll figure it out." He muttered simply, moving to run his fingers through his hair until he realized there was still blood dried on his fingers. He cringed a moment, turning back to Near. "But until I _do_ figure it out, you'd do well to stop giving me shit about it considering I'm your eyes now. You're lucky I didn't just leave you there to die." He added quieter as he went to the sink to wash his hands off, disgusted by the sight of the blood running off his hands down the drain. How people killed for a living, he'd never understand.

"Right." Was Near's only half-hearted response as he cocked his head away from the sound of the water a moment, turning a lock of hair around his fingers.

Mello sighed, "stop doing that." He turned off the faucet, shaking off the water from his hands. "Come on." He grabbed Near's arm and hoisted him to his feet, beginning to drag him from the room without another thought.

"Mello, stop!" The blonde felt Near's body go tense in his grip again as Near put up a fight, trying not to be pulled too far away from his original position.

"What now?"

"I can't see." Near told him in a labored, hushed voice, and instantly Mello understood the issue with his actions that Near was trying to tell him. While most people had someone they could trust, not many of those people trusted others to be their eyes. Even the most trusting person, when in the dark, is afraid of being led to trip over something. The unknowing is frightening, but the trust is almost more daunting. This was true especially for someone like Near who ultimately never seemed to trust anyone but himself. Not even Mello, who he'd known almost his entire life was worthy of such a level.

Mello's eyes narrowed on him. "You're covered in blood. Even your hair has blood in it" He explained, watching Near grimace momentarily as his free hand fell from the snowy hair instantly. "I was going to let you wash it off." He exhaled to try and calm his frustrations, "Look, we don't exactly have much of a choice, here. You're going to have to trust me."

"I trusted you before you shot me." Near threw back at him.

His grip unconsciously tightened on the younger's arm and for a moment he considered just letting him go and telling him to figure it out for himself. He didn't need this. He was being a good human being by helping fix the mistake he created and all Near wanted to do was rub his face in it. If that was how it was going to be, then why shouldn't he give the same treatment back to the annoying twit?

"I didn't shoot you. You were in my way." The answer was that it was because Mello was better than that. Mello could tell himself that he was a better person than Near ever could be, morally speaking. At least on that end, he would always win. "I'm not going to run you into anything, alright? Just…" He struggled a moment, trying to find some justification behind his words, "you're going to just _have_ to trust me."

Taking Near's silence as his response Mello began leading him again, though Near continued to pull against him and hold his free hand up to try and deflect against anything that might hit him. Mello shook his head, it was a start, at least, and realistically that was all he could ask of him.

Entering into the bathroom attached to the second bedroom in the apartment, Mello flicked on the light and finally let go of Near, leaving him stranded in his unseeing world just long enough to go compile a few items. He went back to his own bedroom and grabbed some toiletries, a towel, and some clothes he hadn't worn in years, at least since he'd assumed a position in the mafia. He didn't like the idea of sharing with Near, but what other choice did he have at the moment?

Returning back to where he'd left Near, he found the younger in the exact place he'd been before. He sighed, "it's going to take time for all of this to come together, Near." His voice was solemn as he set everything down.

"You don't need to keep reminding me."

Mello didn't know how to respond, whether to tell him he wasn't saying it to inform Near, but instead because he himself needed to hear it, or to just try and figure out some kind of justification for saying it in the first place. He bit his tongue to keep himself silent, not needing to remind himself of what always seems to happen when he speaks without thinking about it.

A thought suddenly hit him as he glanced down momentarily at Near, then began rummaging through the cupboards of the bathroom.

"What are you looking for?" Near wondered.

"Scissors."

"For?" When Mello was silent Near continued, "Mello, if we're going to make, whatever you consider _this_ to be, work, you're going to _have_ to trust me." He shot back at the blonde, a small smirk crossing his face just long enough for Mello to catch sight and glare at him before the look fell away again.

Mello huffed, "The doctor who worked to fix you up, Doc, said you may not have completely lost your sight. I want to know." He explained, finally finding a pair of medical scissors as well as some bandages he'd stashed away from when he had been treating his burn.

Stepping closer to Near with the scissors he felt his breath catch and hold in his chest, his heart began racing again, wondering what they'd find behind the bandages. "Don't move." He instructed, moving the scissors under the bandages and beginning to delicately cut at the material until it fell away from around Near's head.

The younger looked relatively fine. The area around his eyes didn't show signs that any trauma had occurred only a short time ago, though over one of Near's eyes there were a few thin black markings from the blast. "Open your eyes." He instructed quietly as his held breath finally released itself.

The lids over Near's eyes slowly slid open, revealing the same eyes which Mello had become so familiar with over their long shared history together, though they were obviously red and irritated from the burns. However, the familiar eyes were different now than they always had been. Near moved them around to look around the room naturally and without any issue, but it was obvious that the grey orbs weren't actually seeing or focusing on anything specific. They just stared outwards….

Mello finally dared to ask, "Can you see anything?" His voice was nearly silent.

"Shadows."

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." Near shot back venomously. "Shadows. I can make out the fact that you're standing in front of me, and I can tell the lights are on because things are a bit brighter. But I can't make out details of anything specifically. I would never be able to discern you from anyone else." Near's voice was analytical and to the point, recounting his observations as if it was just part of some sick scientific experiment. Mello couldn't help wondering if that was how he really saw it, or if it was just how he was trying to cope with this change. Perhaps everything hadn't actually sunk in yet.

He held out the scissors, "Can you tell what these are?"

Near shook his head, "No. It simply appears as an extension of you. A more or less black shadow." He explained.

Mello sighed, "At least there's something there… that's better than nothing." He told both Near and himself. "It's a start, at least." He added quietly.

Again Near shook his head side to side, the words that followed with it made Mello completely freeze, "It doesn't matter. Until my vision comes back, my purpose is useless. A detective is nothing without his eyes."

Mello's heart fell from his chest as it felt like Near's words made the entire reality they were living in come crashing down on him. He put the scissors back on the counter by the sink, feeling as though he might be physically sick if he didn't leave immediately, his mind was clouding over, "the shower's there." He pointed, "I left clothes here you can have. Just… don't fall or anything." He stammered out, desperate to have something to say.

"Mello, I-."

The blonde didn't give him a chance to finish, exiting the room and closing the door after him. Instantly his hands moved up into his hair, grabbing at the roots as hard as he could. His emotions suddenly overtook and flooded his reality. All at once the world was becoming too much for him and had too much noise for him to bear.

He consciously realized that he didn't have all the answer as to what he should do, he didn't have all the ways to work around the natural miscalculations that just come with the territory of existing in the world. Figuring all of that out was Near's job, not his! Mello's job always just seemed to be the one there to fuck if all up; to throw extra miscalculations into the equation!

He moved to the wall, dully banging his head off the solid surface before letting himself just lean against it, feeling utterly defeated. Near's words played over and over in his head, time and again on permanent repeat. A detective is nothing without his eyes. A detective is useless if he can't see. _Near_ was suddenly useless.

A small voice in his mind told him that if that logic was true, then Near could no longer perform his duties as L, leaving Mello to be the one to take over the title. But that wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to beat Near on a technicality basis alone. Further than that, though, at least Mello knew how to function in the world without solely relying on his deductive reasoning abilities. Near didn't. Near's entire identity revolved around being a detective and solving puzzles for a living. But now, suddenly Mello had taken that away from him.

He hadn't meant to utterly destroy Near's entire reason for getting up every day.

The soft hum of the water of the shower being turned on reached his ears, but he could barely even acknowledge it as his mind was caught too far down in his own self-induced darkness, where all he could see was his own wrongdoings coupled with the same shadows that now were the only things left that Near could see.

* * *

A/N: Bah, not sure how I feel about that ending, but it was the best I could do. I am relatively pleased with the way this chapter panned out, but I still feel like it's taking me a bit to really smooth out both of their characters, given the situation. Not sure, though, since I have been known to over-think things. So, let me know what you think. Any opinions you have would be greatly appreciated!

Please review  
-_Forbiddensoul562_


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